Let Them Eat Cake'
by Reallybored2
Summary: Why Buffy and Alchemy are unmixy things.
1. Chapter 1

****

**Disclaimer:** I own **nothing** here! All materials and characters related to _Buffy The Vampire Slayer_ belong to Joss Whedon and his group. _Stargate_ the movie was created by Roland Emmerich and Dean Devlin; the T.V. series _Stargate: SG-1_ was brought to its grateful fans by Brad Wright and Jonathan Glassner.

This story was supposed to be really, really short. A three to four paragraph long addendum to my story _The Red, The Black And The White_-A Halloween story that had Buffy going as Edward Eric, from _Full Metal Alchemist_. The darn thing decided to stretch a bit, and ended up jumping into the _Stargate_ 'verse in a well known cliché way.

Why Buffy and Alchemy are unmixy things.

'Let Them Eat Cake'

A beautiful dawn; the deep dark colors gradually blending and lighting up to a full bright sun lit blue sky.

But then again, Buffy mused, most Californian dawns started out that way. Enjoying the sky show from her laid back position on a lounge chair settled on a roof of a tall building, emptied out since she had dusted the vamps nesting in it, Buffy considered life (specifically, her life) on planet Earth.

Fifteen. She was just fifteen when her life really ended. Never mind The Master, or drowning-Her life ended when Merrick rushed up to her, and told her the reason she was smashing alarm clocks and ripping doors off their hinges was because she was the Slayer. Big capital letter there. Not impressed, a bit scared, but not impressed. Up to then, she was just another clueless teenager enjoying her life; that weird little life of hers, standing precariously on the top rung of Hemery High shaky social ladder. Not that it was really perfect . . .Even then, Buffy knew her dad's favorite hobby was chasing whatever willing bimbo was in the area. Secretaries were his obvious favorites, but it was more the result of availability then preference-Any other times, sad to say, almost anything slutty, female and Human would do. And Buffy had some serious suspicions on the Human part. Turning over to the other side, Buffy was aware of her mom's ballooning dissatisfaction with her stagnant life, and her impatience and embarrassment over her husband's lack of self control and discretion: her mom's art degree was merely another point of argument for her parents-Like her dad's infidelities.

Not perfect . . .And honestly, dysfunctional. But it was _her_ life! Regardless of the problems, they were _normal_ problems. Problems that other people had and could relate and sympathize with.

She shifted her position and stared down at her extended leather clad legs, crossed at the ankles. The designer open toed sandals showed off her great pedicure; lilac nail polish, so light it could have been a shade of pink. No doubt Xander and Giles would have identified it as pink, _completely_ blind to the subtle differences between the two colors.

Buffy sighed, and continued her line of thought. Normal, literally overnight, became Freak Show. A lethal Freak Show, complete with tweed wearing Watcher guy throwing a real knife at her head, a wild cemetery initiation, a one arm vampire; a hot Bad Boy, and one Master vamp. Then Merrick heroically died, saving her, and she burned down her vampire infested school gym. The rest of the stuff sandwiched between those traumatic, Curl-Up-In-A-Fetal-Ball-And-Trigger-A-Catatonic-State, moments paid out their own big Wreck-Buffy's-Life dividends.

Well, there was her Reputation. Losing it was among the worse things that could have happened to her. Buffy was certain that if she had kept her reputation as a All American Cheerleader and Girl-Next-Door, her chances of being declared crazy and locked away in the local funny farm would have been diminished to a comfortable level of Not Gonna Happen! And what the heck was a _confidential_ police report doing in her school file? Those things where Sealed, right? Cause, hello, fifteen year old minor!

Buffy scowled at her lap. Never been arrested, never been charged with a crime, never been tried or convict. But even her mom was convinced her daughter, the girl she birthed, raised, and lived with (and regularly ransacked her bedroom for evidence of any Big Bad criminal activities), was capable of everything _total_ _strangers_ told her Buffy was doing!

With just one sheet of paper, an anonymous, malicious someone had managed to utterly destroy her.

Sunnydale, with it's own bizarre rules and troubles slipped into the place of Normal without a squeak of friction.

With an audible sigh, Buffy allowed her head to drop back . . .She had a good view of the distant Californian desert; a tan and brown line beyond the Sunnydale rooftops and tree lines. With her Slayer sight, the line was a little more detailed-Buffy noted the movement of a rabbit, before the small creature disappeared beneath a sudden explosion of black tentacles and clouds of dust. After the dust settled, nothing remained-No rabbit, no tentacles. Buffy absently made a mental note to do some research, and pay the desert site a visit.

With a sudden start, Buffy realized how impossible that was going to be!

A headache was slowly forming behind her eyes. Buffy drew in a few calming breaths. The Slayer, Hemery, Sunnyhell . . .All beyond her control, but . . .Yeah, but, Buffy had to reluctantly admit her current troubles were of her own creation; _she_ was the one who had screwed the pooch-Although, Buffy was fairly certain she could still have blamed Snyder!

No, she chided herself, let's be frank and honest . . .Halloween was an _all_ Ethan Rayne production; it was _Snyder_ who made her late enough to miss out on the better costumes with his damn detention, then _rules_ of what was an acceptable costume. Otherwise, she would have winged it, created her own costume with whatever was in her closet and makeup collection, like Xander did-Well, minus the makeup. Or, given how scant pickings were at the shop, shrugged off Ethan's entirely, taken a bite out of her clothing allowance, and gone to Party Town.

But noooooo! She had to do stupid, she had to do cheap; _she_ had to make do! And that brought up the question of who the hell did Buffy think she was, at that point? Xander?

Ugh . . .In one of those brilliant flashes of belated genius, Buffy considered how she could have gone as Xander, without the consequences of an Ethan cursed costume.

After the Halloween Hoards had taken their pick of the best in shop, the only good fit for her small frame, had been a leftover doorman costume-Or as Buffy later came to know, Edward Eric, or A. K. A, Full Metal Alchemist!

A small man with a foul mouth, a violent temper, a hard-core cynic; soldier, prodigy, genius; cripple, loving brother, steadfast friend, and a mortal with the power of a god.

Oh, and not to forget anything, attach the whole 'Hero' part to the list, too.

Soooooo . . .for the price of having Ed possess her body for a few hours, Buffy gained his memories, his experiences, his skills and, most importantly, his Alchemy Power.

Pity his sense of discretion was missing. Buffy scoffed at herself, a short time ago she had been condemning her father for his mistakes, while surrounded by her own.

Admittedly, she went a little crazy with the alchemy-Ha! Even Buffy rolled her eyes at her own understatement . . .Sheepishly, Buffy could see how transmuting dozens of pairs of designer shoes from cheap Bargain Bin Specials could have been seen as abusive and suspicious-But the prezzies she gifted to Xander and Willow? How was that bad? Oh, right . . .Arriving at school, covered over with enough Bling, to cause a Rap star to blanch at the ostentatious display of loud and gaudy metal and large, twinkling gemstones. Yeah . . .That might have cemented rumors of gang activity, and other illegal profitable joys; but really, all Buffy wanted to do was allow her friends to share her new powers. So, what was so bad about sharing with her bestest buds?

And the Giant Twinkie incident . . .Buffy shuddered. Buying several tons of Twinkies, and stacking the cases together, then using her Alchemy to create one giant Twinkie seemed like a great idea. Yeah, well, she blushed, it was one of those 'At the time' great ones. Xander suggested it as a way of exercising her powers-And indulging his bottomless obsession with the yellow crème filled snack cake. Yeesh, how were they suppose to know a gas line was right underneath the Twinkie? And honestly, how could they have foreseen the floor collapsing under the weight of the giant Twinkie? For God's sake, they were in a warehouse! The floor should have been reinforced!

Memory replayed that particular incident back . . .

Her sensitive hearing had picked up the ominous groaning-creak first; the floor shifted slightly-Then the slight odor of gas wafted to Buffy's nose. Wasting no time, she grabbed Willow first; dragged off a howling protesting Xander, and proceeded to run for their lives. The big 'BOOM!' and the shock wave hit the shield Buffy had hid them behind seconds after they had exited the building; the ground buckling under their feet, knocking them down to their knees. Flaming debris and Twinkie bits rained down on them-Xander openly sobbed, while dropping heart-rending cries of "My Twinkie! My Twinkie!"

Willow was white faced and shaking violently. Buffy battled a vicious ringing in both ears. All those great Slayer senses-? Not so great when overloaded by a giant gas explosion. Pain, oh, the Pain!

After picking themselves up from the pavement, and hauling away Xander's Twinkie grieving form from the scene of the explosion, the silent and shocked Scoobies traveled back towards Buffy's house, along the way, passing globs and pieces of flaming and caramelized yellow snack cake and white crème filling.

At least they cleaned up before turning on the TV and getting the gosh darn news of Mayor Wilkins demise-While at an outdoor event, the Mayor and his entourage where suddenly inundated by white crème filling falling from the sky. The aids and others where hastily dug out, but it took the rescuers a while too long to locate the Mayor. And regardless of heroic attempts to resuscitate him, Mayor Wilkins was declared DOA. In short, the Mayor drowned in Twinkie guts.

Buffy winced at that memory, at her initial reaction . . .An innocent man . . .Dead because of them-Because of her! Except, the dead 'man' they were ready to fall on their own sword over, was well over a hundred years old and about as innocent as Spike on one of his better known bloody rampages! Scowling in remembrance over the written and photographic evidence they (Willow) uncovered of Wilkins long list of _known_ crimes, Buffy wondered why no one had picked up on the guy's activities-Fercryin'outloud! The creature built a _feeding ground_ for demons on a damn Hellmouth!

Ah, well . . .Should have ended there, what with proving the Mayor was a Big Bad, intent on some more badness. But nooooo . . .Willow and Xander ganged up on her and made her 'fess up about her Alchemy powers. Buffy mentally shook her head in outraged disbelief-One explosion, one lousy explosion, and they go begging for adult oversight!

The blond nervously giggled, and recrossed her ankles. Giles' reaction was as expect-There was that obligatory "Oh, dear Lord!"-Only . . .it was louder then anything she had ever heard come from his mouth. And it echoed, it honestly echoed through the normally quiet library. He broke his glasses, and she fixed them, giving an impromptu demonstration of her Alchemy powers. But then, a couple of minutes later, Giles broke them again.

Yeah, it was one of _those_ meetings.

Later, feeling upset and drained, Buffy went directly home and only managed three steps into the house when her mother's voice ordered her into the living room. There, spread out on the couch, chairs, and table were some of the most damning evidence of her 'gang' activities.

Some of the expensive goodies she had either made with Alchemy or bought with Alchemy created gold had become background splats of color drained of details, while in the foreground, Joyce Summers had gained overwhelming clarity-Buffy marveled at the tiny pores on her mother's flushed and furious face. Buffy traced the throbbing veins and thinned lips-"Buffy Anne Summers!" and with three little words, Buffy's life in Sunnyhell was over.

Okay, so maybe a tentative "Yay!" was called for?

Sighing through her nose, Buffy leaned forward, shifted around and swung her legs and feet to the side of the lounge chair. It was time to go home, Buffy thought, home at least for a few hours more, she amended, stretching with her arms high above her head. Feeling looser, Buffy lowered her arms and stood up, she took a few steps to the roofs waist high parapet.

Her mom, Buffy recalled, had really lost her patience . . .She only spared a couple of minutes on a lecture before informing her wayward daughter of her forceful relocation: Fortunately not to another mental institution-Instead, an unheard of and unknown uncle was going to host her blighted little blond self. Joyce Summers reasoned Buffy needed a _strong_ fatherly presence in her out of control teen life-And that was why Hank Summers was never mentioned.

Before Ed, Buffy mused sadly, she would have disintegrated into a frantic, weepy puddle of goo, pleading or waiting for someone else to come up with a solution to her personal problems. Or swallowing them whole and silently suffer the internal burns from all that industrial strength stomach acid . . .Instead, she called up Giles and the Scoobies, had a late night meeting and within days a few things happened. A nice lawyer, armed with a nice cashiers check, hauling a large briefcase filled with some very nice blackmail material, persuaded the Harris' to allow their only son his premature freedom. Xander, the newly emancipated minor, packed and prepared to leave Sunnyhell behind-With any _good_ luck, for Xander, that meant forever!

Willow's parents were worse then the Harris', Buffy considered in disgust; first they had to hunt them down, and _then_ persuade them to allow Willow to relocate-Turns out the only persuasion they needed was the reassurance Willow was going to be surrounded by intellectuals and scientists in the new town. Maybe Willow's parents thought their daughter was going to absorb, by osmosis, those people's brilliance and ingenuity?

Hmmmm, regardless, they set their hard working secretary to house hunting. Receiving almost immediate results, Willow was going to be moving into a nice four-bedroom house. And, in all sad likelihood, was going to be the only family member ever to step foot in the new house. Meh, knowing Willow's parents, maybe it was for the good-A fresh start somewhere without the nasty memories nearly every inch of Sunnydale was soaked in.

Giles was a Watcher; tricky creatures, appearing where they were least expected. Kind of like cats, Buffy mind lifted and floated seriously comparing her past and present Watchers with felines-But not dogs, she thought . . .Or maybe, just Merrick and Giles? They had dog qualities. Not like other Watchers Buffy had read or heard about. So, yeah, Merrick and Giles were dog like and the rest of the tweed Watcher set were cat like. That settled to her satisfaction, Buffy returned to her original line of thought-Giles was going with! And in the end, that is really all that counted.

That left the other loose thread-Angel.

Until Halloween, they had something special . . .Buffy was certain of it. Except . . .She sighed and laid her hand on top of the rough unfinished mortar of the parapet top. Buffy looked out at the town, with the sun higher in the sky, she could see details and colors missing during the night. Nothing skulked about in the few leftover shadows; the birds sang and flew, figures could be seen in the windows of houses and apartments, moving around, preparing for the day. People were walking their dogs, or allowing the mutts to roam free in their fenced yards. The noise and activity picked up.

Yes, they had the potential for something special-But, an Alchemist sees the Truth-The whole truth and nothing but the truth about reality. It goes with the ability to transmute things: to know a thing down to its most intimate basic level. Illusions or glamours fail to affect them. Buffy discovered the unpleasant fact with Angel.

He glided away from the shadows, as he always did. But instead of that dark, secretive lover a nightmare stepped into the light. His voice was the same, but his normally pale skin was pasty white, facial muscles slack and frozen. Those beautiful, expressive eyes of his . . .Broody and dark . . .but illuminated by his soul-They . . .were lies. What she could see of them, Buffy swallowed her mouth suddenly dried, were obscured by the filmy white cataracts of a corpse. Worse yet, the damages made by insects and rodents before his demonic parasite could preserve its dead host, stood stark and ugly on Angel's face.

She turned and ran, while his voice, pleading and alarmed, called out behind her.

Under a warming sun, Buffy shuddered, chilled. There were a lot of things about Angel she could ignore, like having a room temperature body, or the lack of breathing; even the stench of decaying blood escaping pass whatever chemical guards his personal grooming products generated. But those staring, blind, white orbs without a spark of life behind them . . .No! Just no! For the first time, Buffy found herself hating the Gypsies, and cursing their malicious stupidity.

Buffy avoided Angel, after that . . .encounter. Worse, she used the time to find a legitimate excuse for shunning him. She had never been Research Girl, leaving that tiresome chore to either Giles or Willow, but she immersed herself into it out of desperation and shame. Finding everything she could dig up about Angel, his life as Liam, and the Curse.

It happened late at night, finally finding the _Something_ Buffy needed so badly. Once again, Buffy had barely managed to avoid Angel by the Bronze. Taking one quick run across the rooftops and Buffy slipped into her new hiding place: The public library. No one, especially not Angel would think of looking for her there. Using their computers, Buffy searched for information sitting alone in the dark, quiet, deserted building-And, there on the computer screen, discovered the terrible clause in the Curse.

_One moment of pure happiness, and Angel loses his soul. Reverting back to Angelus._ Two emotions surged up in Buffy-Relief she finally had something to offer for her recent behavior, and shock that left Buffy gaping-Just _one_ _moment_ of happiness? That could have happen any number of times during the hundred years Angel was ensouled!

Momentarily pushing away the feelings that were causing her to become dizzy and lightheaded, Buffy settled her resolve around her and determined to find a way of automatically dusting that body, if Angel's soul ever did leave it. For a fleeting moment, the thought brushed up against her brain of finding a way of anchoring his soul to his body-Or if the worse happened, of recasting the ensoulment spell. But the sharp memory of milky white eyes chased away those ideas. A cutting pain entered her breast-No, Buffy thought bitterly, no way was she going to follow in those idiots footsteps. Let the dead rest.

After that, Buffy told everyone of the Clause-She told Giles, the Scoobies. Buffy then talked to Angel about the Clause, why they had to stay away from each other ("We could have made each other happy, Angel.") . . .and the safeguard she had added.

On the rooftop, Buffy stood leaning against the parapet, staring out at Sunnydale with unseeing eyes replaying that last memory of Angel. He was broken; he tried to deny what she told him. But after halting arguments, Angel stood statue still, closed his eyes, hung his head in defeat, and after a long silence, announced he was leaving for LA.

Tears pooled in Buffy's eyes and ran down her cheeks. Roughly she wiped them away with one hand, and sniffed. Gaining control over herself, Buffy considered her own cursed life, and attempted to console herself with the idea that Angel really was better off away from the Hellmouth.

Without hesitation, Buffy jumped up on the parapet and jumped off the roof, landing in the alley below in a partial crouch. Straightening up, Buffy took a breath and a firm determined step. She had to go home. Her mom was going to be waiting for her. She had to be ready-In a couple of hours she was going to be meeting a long lost relative, and had to make the best first impression she could.

And with a long trip ahead of her to Colorado, Springs, with Uncle Colonel Jack O' Neill (two L's, please), letting him know the Cheerful Buffy, instead of Pyro Buffy, somehow seemed like a very, very good thing.

_Whew!_ Finally finished!

Sorry about the darker ending, but with Angel in the mix how could it _not_ end in some kind of angst?


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I own NOTHING HERE! _Buffy The Vampire Slayer_ is owned by Joss Whedon and his group. _Stargate,_ the movie version, was created by Roland Emmerich and Dean Devlin. _Stargate: SG-1_ the TV series, is the creation of Brad Wright and Jonathan Glassner. Hiromu Arakawa is the creator of _Full Metal Alchemist_.

This story is a continuation of a Halloween fic. So, if you recognize it, or if it looks familiar, just remember, IT'S NOT MINE!

Buffy and the Scoobies are on the move again. This time around, they supposedly have _adult_ supervision and company in the form of Buffy's Uncle Jack, heh!

John Hugh's 1987 movie _Planes, Trains and Automobiles_, starring John Candy and Steve Martin was the inspiration for this portion of the story.

Buffy and the Scoobies take a plane ride.

"Let Them Eat Cake!"

"Okay, the main difference between cake and donut is the holes?" Xander asked uncertain. He eyed the chocolate glazed donut in his hand, then shrugged and took a large bit out of the sugary confection.

"Nope," Willow corrected, absently. Her attention upon the book opened on her lap. Buffy had given it to her; it was entitled, 'Living In Dollhouses'. "Cake is poured into a mold as liquid batter. While donuts are essentially sweet bread-They are cut from a sheet, then deep-fried."

"But, they're still yummy, moist, and delicious," Buffy opinioned. Her hand hovering protectively over a generous slice of Black Forest chocolate cake, sitting on a real plate, with the airline logo painted on the ceramic surface. A tiny, but satisfying perk enjoyed by flying first-class passengers. And by one blonde Slayer and her two Scooby companions. A condition and treat Buffy felt they deserved to experience more often.

The leather seats they had been escorted to, by the stewardess, once they had boarded their plane to Colorado Springs, were up in the first class section of the plane. Not at all seats her Uncle Jack had reserved and paid for. He had set them up in business class, but the airline, and it's personal, had remembered a time or two when the Scoobies had come in for a rescue. As their way of saying thanks, a lifetime of first class travel had been arranged for them.

But it was a reward for the Scoobies, and only the Scoobies. Buffy felt a little bad about leaving Uncle Jack behind-Worse luck for the guy, his reservations had been skewed, and he had unexpectedly been dumped somewhere in economy seating. The modern equivalent of steerage, Buffy was sure. She idly wondered if they served free peanuts? Nah, not likely.

"Guys . . .As informative as this conversation has been, I gotta go and see how Uncle Jack is doing. See you in a few." Buffy said. She got up, and took the plate of chocolate cake with her, aware of the naked, coveting hunger in the following eyes.

Willow sighed, once Buffy disappeared beyond the separating curtains. "I like cake," she murmured discontentedly.

Xander swallowed his recent mouthful, and said cheerfully, "So do I Wils. But do you _really_ think you could have gotten that cake away from the Buffster, with her on guard like that?"

"No," Willow admitted mournfully, pouting. Xander chuckled quietly.

"Ah, don't feel bad, Wils-Here, have a donut." Xander extended his white pastry box to his best friend. With donuts, he could be generous. With a sigh, Willow plucked a powdered jelly donut out of the box. It would have to do-Besides, sharing donutie goodness soothed the fluttering butterflies in her stomach. A tiny reminder that not everything was going to be strange and new. Xander, and Buffy, and Giles, and donuts were going to be there and the same. Not like she was moving to a foreign country, by herself, right? The only off-key, strange thing was that she kept hearing Cordelia's shrill voice-"What do you mean, there's no more cake?!"

Xander's shocked face popped out from behind Willow's seat, his cheeks bulging with donut. "'Ourdee?" The muffled question came out before Xander swallowed and tried again. "Cordie?" The unhappily familiar voice erupted from a few seats in front of them.

"This is suppose to be first class! First class has cake! Business class has pie!"

"I'm sorry, miss. But we're out of the Black Forest chocolate cake. The cherry pie is good," soothed the Stewardess, a smile fixed firmly on her face.

"Whatever! Just leave it here."

The wide-eyed Scoobies watched the still smiling stewardess silently push her dessert cart away-But with a visible white knuckled grip on the handle bar.

In a single identical motion, two sets of eyes swung back to settle on the disgruntle figure of Sunnydale High's deposed queen, Cordelia Chase.

With a sudden decision, Xander rose from his seat and stepped out into the aisle, pastry box in hand.

"Um, Xander?" Willow questioned nervously, noticing what her Xander-Shaped-Friend was doing.

Xander gravely handed Willow his box. She accepted it, confused. "I'm going in, Willow. If I don't come back, keep the donuts and bury me with the Twinkies." He straightened his back, pulled back his shoulders, pushed out his chest and marched bravely to his fate.

Grinning, Xander slide into the vacant seat next to the quietly grousing former cheerleader. "Hi, Cordie! Oooh, pie!"

"Harris!" Squealed Cordelia, jumping in surprise, but still smacking his hand away from her pie. "What are you doing here? Hey, wait-" Her eyes narrowed, suspicious, "You people come in a pack. Where's the rest of the spook patrol? And, oh, god! No wonder my day's turned to crap!"

Xander, shaking and wriggling a stinging hand, responded intelligently. "Ah, um, ah . . .What was the last part again, Cordie?"

Cordelia growled and glared. "You! You and the rest of the ghostbusters ruined my life! Before you people, my life was perfect! Now, my dad and mom decided I was hanging around with the wrong crowd, and decided to ship me off to an uncle on my mom's side of the family! And, no! Not to any place decent or civilized! No! Instead it's to the pus-filled pimple end of the boondocks-Colorado, Springs!"

Xander's laughter turned into a coughing fit. "Sorry *Cough* to hear *Cough* that *Cough*, Cordeila. *Cough* Your uncle, does he have a name? *Cough*"

Cordelia glared hard at Xander, the dessert fork griped tightly in her fist. "McKay. Dr. Rodney McKay." She passed through gritted teeth.

Gaining control of himself, Xander surreptitiously eyed the fork and spoke with an easy grin, "A doctor, huh? Hey, not so bad-At least he can get you discounts on your medical bills!"

"He's not a medical doctor, dofus! He's a physicist. And, he's a Canadian!" Cordelia hissed.

"And that's of the bad, how?" Xander questioned, he shrugged and smirked. "Never mind . . .To graciously answer your earlier, oh, so polite questions, Buffy is going to be living in Colorado Springs with her uncle. And we're going with! And, FYI, I'm also an emancipated minor! Got the legal paperwork, and everything. So, whatcha' say to that, Queen C, huh?"

Cordelia stared in stunned horror. "You. Have. Got. To. Be. Kidding. Me."

"Nope," Xander gleefully informed his nemesis. "Just think, Cordie, we might end up being neighbors. Yeah, wouldn't it be great, if we could just open up a window and wave to each other? Every. Single. Morning? Oh, yeah . . .I see you're thinking about that . . .'Kay, now. I've got to go. Other business to attend to, and all that. See you later-Neighbor."

Xander rose from the seat and quickly retreated, leaving a stunned Cordelia staring at the back of the seat in front of her.

Snickering in his head, Xander winked and grinned at a seated Willow. His white pastry box on her lap, donut gone, and both hands holding open her book. She slowly shook her head in silent disapproval at him, causing Xander to grin even wider. He quickly walked past his seat-Xander was not lying to Cordelia when he told her he had business to attend to. It just happened that he needed to make a quick visit to the restrooms.

He had plans to think about-Like talking Buffy into helping him make another giant twinkle! Xander considered gleefully; he was too deep in his thoughts of golden, moist snack cake and vanilla cream goodness to notice where he was walking, until-

"Umph! Sorry, man, I-" Xander paused. He stared at the guy he had nearly run down. Xander suddenly grinned. "Nice shirt."

The blond man, wearing the mostly yellow, Hawaiian shirt, blinked and said uncertainly, "Thanks."

With a happy grin on his face, Xander slid pass the slightly confused man, and whistling softly, walked to the restrooms. He opened an unoccupied, unlocked door-And halted in mid-step-"Oh, geeze, man! I'm so sorry! I-"

What Xander expected, when he accidentally walked in on some guy in the rest room, were pants and underwear around ankles. What he was unprepared for was the half-naked blond woman, down on her knees, with her face buried in the guy's groin. Worse, yet, she looked vaguely familiar-like, like . . .

"Harmony? Harmony Kendall?"

"Mindy? Mindy!"

With a wet, slurping, popping sound, glistening red lips slid quickly off the man's length as the wide-eyed woman gasped out in surprised horror-"Dave!"

Xander whirled around in shock at the primal growl-It was the blond guy in the Hawaiian shirt! Only the face was scaled, fanged, and had five red glowing eyes!

"Yeaaaugh!"

Xander was never really certain why his luck ran from hot to cold. Like suddenly turning around and finding the only exit blocked by a large angry demon, breathing hot, rotting meat-breath on his face! And just as quickly having his luck turn in the form of a decent violent jerk from the plane, coinciding with a loud, messy release from the guy in the rest room! Xander was tossed hard against the doorjamb. But he ignored the pain in his shoulder and thigh, unhesitatingly taking the boon his odd luck had given him, and stepped on and stumbled over Mr. Five Eyes on the floor, who had become distracted and unbalanced by those two previous events, screaming all the way-"Buffy!"

As he fled, Xander decided the guy in the rest room was on his own-Or, at least until he pulled his pants back on!

According to Wikipedia, the Twinkie was invented by James Alexander Dewar in 1930, for the Continental Baking Company; they later became Hostess Brand. Out of necessity, during World War 2, the original banana cream filling was replaced by the famous vanilla cream. Decades later, the original banana cream filling was reintroduced. As for the name "Twinkie", Mr. Dewar explained he was inspired by a billboard advertising 'Twinkle Toes Shoes'-A fact Buffy might have appreciated.

In 1981, Hostess created a one ton, ten-foot long twinkie to celebrate the snack cake's 50th birthday.

Oh, and Hostess Brand does make bread-Wonder Bread.

Thanks for reading! Goodbye!


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I **OWN NOTHING HERE!** _Buffy The Vampire Slayer_ is the creation and property of Joss Whedon and his group. Brad Wright and Jonathan Glassner are responsible for bringing _Stargate: SG-1_ to that big little screen called TV. Just remember-**IF YOU RECOGNIZE IT, IT'S NOT MINE!**

I'm just dropping this one down as a filler chapter. Proof the story isn't dead, or abandoned.

**Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8 Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8 **

A Colonel In WonderLand

"Oh, for cryin' out loud!"

That was the least offensive thing, Colonel Jonathan (_Ack! Jack, call me Jack!_) Angus O' Neill (_two LL's, alright?_) had exclaimed or thought, in the forty-five minutes or more, since he ended up planted in the mini plane seat from Hell.

The reason for his verbal self-restraint came in the form of four young kids, seated next to, and to the back, of him, in the economy seating he had been banished to after his reservations in business class vanished. For some unexplainable reason, the bouncing quartet decided they liked him, and latched onto him with the same life sucking tenacity as lampreys. So close that he had already suffered severe wardrobe losses from stains caused by spilled drinks, sticky and color leaking candy, and one pink magic marker. Worse, he still smelled slightly of sour vomit after one of the kids threw up on him. He had cleaned up and changed shirts in the bathroom, while the kids were banging on the door, claiming they 'had to go, NOW!'-Jack suspected he was going to end up losing the last clean shirt he had in his carryon, before the plane landed.

To add joy to his situation, the kids had kicked up a couple of fights that ended up in his lap, and resulted in an elbow to his right eye, and a hardcover book to his nose. The headache he was getting came from the repeated stanzas from one of the little darling's favorite songs ("_Itsy, bitsy SpppiiiiDer, went up the water spout_!").

Jack squirmed in his seat, riding out the shooting pains from his injured knee, after it bumped hard against the folded tray, in the back of the seat in front of him. A six foot two inch tall guy had no business squeezed into a seat a four-year-old could use as a car seat.

Trying to move past the knee pain, and his other current aches and pains, Jack allowed his mind and thoughts to wander back into the general direction of his sister and niece. Sure was a surprise to hear from Joyce again. Last time his younger sister had 'phoned him, she was going through a divorce-Long time in coming, as far as Jack was concerned. Hank was a straight out womanizer and cheat, and in Jack's opinion, Joyce had been nuts to stick it out with that man for as long as she had.

Admittedly, there had been Buffy (Jack still had problems believing that name. He had thought Joyce had better taste then name her kid after a bunny!). Jack was still ambivalent about her elders decision to stay together until Buffy was old enough to handle a divorce.

That part of things was done and over with; and Jack, looking at the end results, was still unsure of its benefits . . .

However, when Joyce called looking for a favor, he was willing to jump on a plane and fly out to California, and help out with his so-called 'troubled' niece.

That was why he was sitting, or more honestly, squirming in pain, in a tiny chair, surrounded by devil children Jack was convinced were plotting on eating him.

"Uncle Jack?"

Jack glanced up in startled surprised. Buffy was standing in the aisle, staring down in concern at him. In her hand . . .Was that cake?

"Um, Uncle Jack? Here, I saved you a slice of chocolate cake," Buffy held out the plate with the delicious looking cake on it. "It's German chocolate cake. I remembered you liked cake-And blue Jello. I kind of figured they wouldn't be handing out anything but little packets of peanuts, so I saved you some cake."

"Thank you, Buffy." Jack said. It took some self restrain to keep from shoveling the whole thing into his mouth at once. Instead, Jack unfolded the twice-damned tray across his lap and placed the precious cake on top of it. "Soooo, how are things up in first class?" Jack asked casually.

Buffy fidgeted. "Oh, well, you know . . .they fed us. Cake and all you know. Sort of quiet, not too many people up there. Some of them are snoozing-The chairs open out into these personal bed thingies, so you can sleep comfortably if you want to. The stewards and stewardesses are nice. If you want, they give you these headphones, so you can hear the movie playing on the tiny screens each chair has."

"Oh."

"Uncle Jack . . .Are you okay? 'Cause, if you're not, we can ask if they can spare a seat up in Business class?" Buffy said, in worried concern.

"It's okay," Jack said, waving away her concern. Business class? Why not First class? "We're going to be in the air for just a couple of hours-I can hold out that long. Besides, First class, how great can it be?" Jack asked sardonically.

"Eh, yeah . . .right." Buffy frowned. "Might not be too nice soon enough."

"Hmmm? Why is that?"

Buffy shrugged. "Cordelia Chase. Head cheerleader back in Sunnydale high. Kind of a friend/enemy sort. Had been Xander and Wils nemesis since grade school. They started a 'We hate Cordelia' club, along with their best friend, Jesse. Caught a glimpse of her sitting a few rows up front from us. Didn't say anything, 'cause I didn't want Xander to go up there and start something with her. At least not until after dessert, any way."

"I see . . .So, they like each other then?" Jack turned guiltless eyes on Buffy.

Buffy gapped, and sputtered. "NO! No, not like that! They hate each other! They're always insulting and snarking at one another! They don't like each other, I tell you!"

Jack nodded. "Alright."

Buffy pouted. "Really!"

Jack shrugged. "If you say so."

"Yeah, I say so!"

Stirring up silly arguments with a teenager, on a maybe relationship between two other teenagers, was sinking really low for Jack. At least Carter would have said so . . .For that matter, so would Danny boy. The Big Guy would have held his own private counsel. Still, had he really sunk too low? Nah, Jack could fondly recall a few times when he had sunk even lower for the sake of amusement.

"BUFFY!"

Jack jumped in his seat, startled.

Buffy merely sighed and said, "Sounds like Xander found Cordelia. I'd better go and break it up before she kills him."

"Yes . . .Well, go. Go ahead and separate them. I'm sure you can handle them." Jack made shooing motions. His mind already distracted by cake, chocolate German cake.

With a hasty good-bye, Buffy shot up the aisle. Jack watched her disappear beyond the closed curtain. With a gleeful cackle, Jack turn to his cake-And found only a few crumbs on an empty plate.

The giggle pulled his head up with a sharp snap. Jack's outraged eyes lit on four chocolate smeared grinning faces.

"Oi! That was my cake!"

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**A little while later . . .**

Jack wanted a distraction from his stolen cake. Well, he got a distraction! In fact, he got several distractions, not including the main one, where the plane suddenly, and without warning, plunged several thousand screaming feet, before evening out and regaining altitude!

In the midst of hanging air masks, sobbing, screaming passengers, and the distraction of a beautiful woman, one of the stewardesses, pressing up her curvaceous, trembling body against him. Jack witnessed a tall, dark haired girl, beautiful face contorted in rage, strangling a purple faced, gagging, Xander Harris with slender, perfectly manicured hands. While Willow Rosenberg frantically tried to separate them, Buffy stood with another plate of chocolate cake, peering intently down at it, tilting it this way and that, while murmuring, "Is cake still bread? Or bread still cake?"

And there you had it, folks! Jack O' Neill had officially entered Wonderland! All he needed was a white rabbit, and he was set!

Or maybe a hotel room-The hot Stewardess had definitely felt him up. Definitely.

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More Disclaimers-Yay! No, I don't own Alice, the White Rabbit, or Wonderland! The song, _Itsy, bitsy Spider_, had been annoying adults for longer then I've been alive. And while I'm not certain about its copyright status, I do know I don't own it!


	4. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER:** Allow me to assure you-**I OWN NOTHING HERE!** _Buffy The Vampire Slayer_ is own by Joss Whedon and his group. Hiromu Arakawa's _Full Metal Alchemist_-**I DON'T OWN IT!** Bringing _Stargate: SG-1_ to the television screen is Brad Wright and Jonathan Glassner. Not me, never me . . .Just remember, **IF YOU RECOGNIZE IT, IT'S NOT MINE!**

Regardless of the fact that those two last crossovers aren't mentioned in this chapter, for safety sake I decided to post disclaimers for them anyway.

Originally I was going to stick this story in a Boeing 777. By February of 1997, the huge, wide-body commercial passenger plane was in service, and it seemed like a good idea-at first. Now folks, here's the question that killed that idea: Would an airline risk a brand new, multimillion dollar plane in what is essentially a war zone, when they had older, less expensive planes in their fleet, that could do the same job?

The answer to that is likely a really big, neon glowing, NO.

So, with that in mind, I went and settled for the traditional disaster plane favorite: the 747.

Unhappily for me, the idea came too late, and I'd already dropped hints about the plane's identity. Now, anyone else might have gone back and rewritten the chapter, but I confess to being too lazy for that. So, instead, an explanation of the inconsistencies would have to do.

With that dealt with, here's another chapter with a couple of exiled Sunnydale natives heading in the same direction as the Scoobies and poor clueless Uncle Jack.

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AND THAT'S HOW WE ROLL!

"Sit right here! And don't move!"

The blond, teenage boy was slammed down into the seat far harder then he should have been by the scowling, and oh, too strong, stewardess.

"But what if I have to-?" The teen began whining.

"Sit!" She hissed.

"B-but . . .Bathroom?" Whimpered the teen.

"SIT!" Delivering a final warning glare, the scary woman with the large dark stain on the front of her white blouse, pivoted around on her sensible heels, and marched away, down the isle, ignoring any possible pleas from her 'passenger'. Once she was far enough away, a defiant tongue, aimed at the woman's ramrod backside, shot out of the teen's mouth-And he nearly ended up biting it, as an unexpected voice at his side, made him jump in startled surprise!

"Oh, hey! Andrew? Andrew Wells?"

Andrew, surprised there was anyone on the plane that knew his name, quickly twisted around on his seat to look at the passenger next to him. "Ohmygod! OHMYGOD! Jonathan? Jonathan Levinson? What are you doing here?!" He cried out excitedly, in a high pitch, painful squeal. Causing nearby passengers to wince in unexpected pain.

Jonathan Levinson rolled his eyes and grimaced in glum resignation. "I've been shipped off . . .by my parents-To go live with my grandfather, in Colorado Springs." He stared briefly down at his plaster encased left arm, immobilized in a sling. "I, um, ran into some girls, and, um, they-they beat me up, and broke my arm."

"Really?" Andrew gasped.

Jonathan nodded grimly. "Yeah. But my grandfather's an ex-Marine-A tough, mean, old leatherneck. Not that he's really mean, you know," he added hastily. "But he's tough! That's what my parents want for me-Not the mean part! But my parents think grandpa can toughen me up, and teach me how to stand up for myself. Or, at least, stand up against, um, girls. Mean, strong . . .girls." He muttered in discontent.

"Oh, wow. That's kind of bad to hear." Andrew commiserated with his fellow nerd and virgin. He thought of Jonathan as being cooler then himself, simply because the other teen had one date more then he had ever had-Ever. Okay, so the girl turned out to be a life-sucking mummy only interested in eating him, and the date, not so much as a date, but more like an opportunistic predator stalking her unwary prey-But she was still hot! Speaking of hot chicks . . .

"Um, yeah, one question here-Uh, um, ah, did you get to feel any of them up?" Andrew asked, breathlessly. "You know, while they were beating you up?"

Jonathan stared in wide-eyed, outraged, disbelief at the earnest blond. "What kind of question is that? No! I was too busy protecting my head, and the guys down there!"

"Sorry! Sorry!" Andrew hastily apologized. He paused, then said: "Were they at least hot?"

The dark haired teen opened his mouth, and took a deep breath-Then deflated. "Yeah, they were smoking." He admitted, quietly, lowering his eyes in shame.

"Aaahhhh!" Andrew nodded, knowingly with a small perverted smile on his face.

"What about you? Why are you here?" Asked Jonathan quickly, with a dash of desperation.

"Oh! Well, you know Mayor Finch's new wife?" Andrew said casually. He sat back, crossed his leg at the knee, and bobbed his foot up and down. His posture strangely self-satisfied and cat smug.

"Yeah . . .I think I remember her by her maiden name-An Anya Jenkins, I think it was? Or something like that?" Jonathan frowned, suddenly troubled. He recalled the name from the newspaper, but he also remembered the name in connection with Sunnydale's supernatural Badness.

Andrew nodded. "Well, you know my signature Summoning? The Flying Monkeys?" He waved his hand around at the wrist.

Jonathan's eyes widened, suspicious. "Y-yeah?"

Andrew huffed, and in a moment the smugness was gone, and he somehow managed to look both aggrieved and scandalized. "Geez! How was I suppose to know they were going to do a fly over, directly above the Mayor's outdoor wedding-THEN simultaneous relieve themselves, while flying above the wedding? I ask you-How was I suppose to know they were going to do that?" Andrew demanded in exasperation, rolling his eyes.

"Oh. Dear. God." Jonathan, in shock, blinked, and blinked unbelieving what he had heard. That was just . . .His heart began beating faster. Good God! Any god of Light out there! Was Andrew suicidal?! Did he have a Death Wish of some kind?! THAT woman, THAT woman . . .Jonathan collected himself and recalled some of the strange, and ugly rumors, he had heard, about THAT woman, in the town's magical community. Most of those stories were about the awful things she did to people who pissed her off-Or, if the rumor s were true, she caused to happen to people who pissed other people off.

Of course, Jonathan considered, given Andy's weird ability to upset people just by breathing, it would be a Vengeance demon the Wells' youngest would somehow find and antagonize!

"Wow! Mom and dad said the same thing!" Exclaimed a surprised, and oblivious, Andrew. "Anyway, apparently it was a really big deal. At least mom said so . . .Dad just had his head in his hands. Okay, so while no one else knows it was my monkeys that did it, mom and dad decided it was better to be safe then sorry-So mom contacted a cousin of ours, who lives out in Colorado Springs, and blackmailed her into taking me in!" He ended happily.

"Oh," said Jonathan weakly, still blinking-Until he got hit with a sudden memory, and his eyes narrowed as he recalled Andy complaining, whining really, about how he was certain one of his father's ex-girlfriend's had cursed him as payback for dumping her in favor of his mother. Payback, huh? Really now, if true, the woman knew the man was married, with a son and a pregnant wife. She had no guarantee of a future with the guy-So, what did a home wrecker like that have to complain about? If anything, the WIFE, the actual wronged party, should have been the one demanding vengeance! As for vengeance . . .Jonathan took a deep breath, Andy may not look it, but he could be seriously vindictive if he felt he had been wronged.

Now, IF the Senior Wells' former lover had gone and done stupid, and made a malicious wish within hearing of a Vengeance demon, and an innocent, specifically Andrew, had been damaged by it . . .The foul audacity of that woman! He thought incensed, suddenly feeling extreme sympathy for Andrew. Yes, Jonathan could see himself directing his heartfelt outrage at BOTH females! One of them for being evil and selfish enough to try to break up a family, and the other for granting that bitch a Wish that caused harm to an innocent! IF that was the case, then Jonathan could see how a rain of monkey crap could be the least Andy could 'gift' the new bride with.

Jonathan gave Andrew a hard look-How long before that woman, or whatever the hell she was, figured out who was responsible for that particular crime and came looking for her own payback? Andy, Jonathan decided sadly, was just really crazy and suicidal.

Andrew brightened. "Oh, oh . . .Remember Warren Mears, the technomage?"

"Yeah . . ." Jonathan confirmed cautiously, pulled out of his thoughts. "I've seen him around."

"Well, his mom decided he needed a more masculine role model. And since she hasn't been able to catch herself a man, or a woman, to fill that he-man space, she decided to ship him off to military school. Lots of he-men role models there." Andrew confided.

Jonathan winced-Unlike Andrew, he knew the real reason why Mrs. Mears was shipping Warren off to military school. He had been in the house when it happened. The prototype sexbot, Warren had been constructing down in his mom's basement, had developed a serious glitch. It had made its homicidal tendencies known before it had gotten off the worktable, giving Warren time to run out the basement and escape the house with the thing in hot pursuit. Jonathan had jumped behind the old beat up sofa kept down in the basement long before that event, just glad he had been out of that thing's line of sight when it had been activated. It, the incomplete 'bot, chased a surprisingly speedy Warren all over town, declaring its love for him at boom box volume, as well as its intentions of ripping off certain dear body parts if it ever got its cold steel fingers on him. To make the nightmare worse, Stupid Warren had given the thing, a long-life battery pack, and forgot to install an OFF switch!

A thing every good mad scientist and inventor should never forget when making their own Love 'bots.

The only good news in that debacle came with the unexpected, rare rainstorm that drenched the town. Shorting out the robot, who, only half way complete, was still without its water proofing 'skin'. Warren, hiding up a tree, spent the entire night wet, cold and praying he survived a Sunnydale night outdoors!

Guiltily, Jonathan recalled he should have been the one to find Warren and tell him about the robot's fate, but he had been busy-Someone had jumped that no good blond ho, Harmony Kendell, stripped her naked, then tied her arms to her side, and hoisted her up the school flagpole!

If Harmony had been a little more discrete and smart, then perhaps most of the school would have missed out on a naked, screaming-bloody-murder, Harmony kicking, scissoring, and splitting open her legs in mid air. Thus exposing all her goods to the cameras and camcorders that had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, in the hands of too many vindictive, smirking schoolmates. Jonathan had blushed a little the first time he saw the blond had gotten a Brazilian wax.

There was an opportunity there, and someone took advantage of it. Someone beautifully merge together close-up footage of Harmony's humiliation, with a video of her doing her cheerleading routine (The merged version had her doing the routine sans panties, and generous peeks at her bare, bobbing, perky boobs!), Jonathan could enjoy that memory every time he had access to a VCR. The 55-minute tape sold for $9.95 (plus taxes, shipping and handling).

Jonathan kept the tape in his carryon, and counted it as one of his most precious possessions.

Okay, so call him a pervert-He could live with that.

While Jonathan mused over the antics of past and present acquaintances, a bit of familiar movement caught the corner of his eye-He glanced up, briefly-And did a double take. Down the next isle over, a familiar mop of blond hair was cheerfully bobbing its way to the back of the plane.

"Andrew!" He hissed urgently, nudging the other teen with his elbow. "Look over there! On the next isle, going towards the back of the plane!"

"Whe-Oh, crap!" Andrew gasped, seeing the blond head of the girl walking to the back of the plane. "Buffy Summers! This can't be good!"

Jonathan felt his chest constricting in panic. Every time SHE showed up-! No, no, breath in, breath out-No place for a panic attack! He berated himself. "Okay, relax. Nothing bad is going on. Nothing bad is happening. Nothing bad will happen!" Chanted Jonathan softly, surreptitiously using his one good hand to fish in the area around him for his seat belt. "She's just casually walking about. Nothing to do with anything, anything bad." God! Where was the effin' seatbelt?!

"You think?" Andrew whimpered, fear on his wide-eyed face.

Jonathan gulped. Of course, Buffy was not the source of the bad things Jonathan knew happened in Sunnydale, but somehow she was always present when things went FUBAR to the worse degree. Seeing her on the plane? That was bad-Really, really bad. Like in Crash and Burn bad. "I'm reasonably sure-Look, Andy, if something bad was really going to happen, wouldn't Harris be right behind her?" He said, reassuringly. Trying to project an unfelt calm for the other teen's sake.

"BUFFY!"

At the familiar shriek, both teens froze. Once the little blond blur had flown out of sight, up the isle, the ON switch was flicked, and they threw themselves into a frantic, panicky, hand slapping, mad scramble for their seatbelts!

Oblivious to the passengers staring at them, they finally settled down into their seats, secured by their seatbelts. Andrew was breathing heavily into a barf bag. Beads of perspiration ran freely down Jonathan's forehead.

Breathing heavily, Jonathan clutched the armrest with his good hand, his body stiff in terror, waiting for the doom he was certain was coming.

"Any moment, now . . .any moment." He breathed. And he breathed. And breathed. And breathed . . .

"Uh, Jonathan?" Andrew muffled voice questioned from his bag.

"Yeah?"

"Maybe, you where right. Maybe-Maybe nothing bad is going to happen?"

Jonathan felt his body unclench . . .A time had past by, and no screams, or fire, or anything else for that matter. So, maybe, maybe nothing bad was going to happen?

Then he made the mistake of looking out the window-A window that look directly out on the plane's wing. A wing impossibly occupied by a six-limbed furry thing, clutching a blond blow-up doll in two of the limbs. A doll with a scary resemblance to Harmony Kendell-In turn clutching what looked like an expensive makeup bag.

He turned wide terror glazed eyes to Andrew's mirror eyes-Andrew saw it too. Neither teen was surprised when there was a sudden lurch, the plane dropped, the Klaxons blared, oxygen masks dropped from the ceiling, and the screams started! Andrew hastily helped Jonathan put on his oxygen mask, before shoving his face into his own mask.

Nothing bad was going to happen? Yeah, right!

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You do realize the last bit was inspired by Rod Serling's **Twilight Zone** "_NIGHTMARE AT TWENTY THOUSAND FEET_" don't you? The original one that aired in 1963, the one starring William Shatner, of course.

**NEEDLESS TO SAY, I DON'T OWN IT!**

Yeah, a lot of things are changing-For one thing, many of the major trouble makers are dead-The Mayor (exploding giant Twinkie, remember?), Spike and Drusilla (Buffy sealed off all the sewer exits, then turned the warehouse, the two Master level vamps were hiding in, into glass, during high noon.). Finch became mayor, meeting and eventually marrying Ms. Anya Jenkins. A former Vengeance demon, who choose to lose her powers rather then wear or use her Power source-The ugly necklace Xander Harris had accidentally turned into a sweet bunny motif piece of jewelry. For some puzzling reason, no one could change it back to its original form. But that's okay, 'cause everyone wuves bunny rabbits, right? ;)

Buffy just barely kept Xander from being brutally murdered by offering Anya a substantial amount of gold for it.

Okay, remember Tucker Wells, Andrew's older brother? The guy who was going to unleash a pack of rabid Hellhounds at a school dance as payback? I figured Andrew was cut from the same vindictive cloth Tucker was. However, while he had his moments, I don't think Andy was ever as vicious as his brother-But I think he would have engineered some form of payback for someone he figured had wronged him, if he had the opportunity. As for Anya, it was mind boggling to me that a being who had caused so much death and suffering for over a thousand years, was able to get away with her crimes with the cosmic equivalent of a slap to the wrist. Oh, alright, she did save Andrew's life and lost her own during the Hellmouth's last 'Hurray!' But still . . .

And yeah, Buffy is teaching the Scoobies Alchemy. Willow finally has something other then magic to focus on, and being a genius herself, can be counted on to excel at what could be seen as a weird science. And Xander, as usual, is haunted by his insecurities, and that is having an effect, but he is learning.

Thanks for finding the time to read this story-And good by!


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